Queen of the Wild
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Maybe Bash can't give Kenna all the things she deserves, but he can offer her a different title.:: for Dra


_For Dra via GGE_

 _Word Count: 1,146_

* * *

"Tell me something," he says.

Kenna purses her lips. "What do you want to know?"

"Something about you," Bash answers. "Anything."

"When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a princess."

He laughs, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. "Don't all little girls dream of that?" he teases, a grin playing at his lips.

Kenna's cheeks heat with color. She shrugs. "I suppose. Though when I got older, I got smarter. I wanted to be a queen."

She notices the sadness in his eyes, a sort of bitterness. She braces herself. Perhaps it was a bad idea to confess that, given her brief romance with his father, her silly ideas of living forever as the King's mistress.

"And instead you end up married to the King's bastard," he says dryly, his eyes closing. "I'm sorry that I can't give you what you dreamed of, Kenna."

She places a hand on his chest, standing on her tiptoes. Her lips brush against his. "Dreams change sometimes," she whispers. "This isn't the life I would have expected when I was younger, but it's a good life. I'm happy with you, Bash, and that's all that matters."

When his eyes open, she sees a new look in them, something that she doesn't quite understand, something that looks strangely like determination.

…

When she wakes in the morning, she finds that he's laid out her finest dress. Kenna picks it up curiously, trying to remember if there is an event that she's forgotten about.

"Good morning," he says, entering their chamber. "Go on. Put it on."

"Have we been summoned for something?" Kenna asks.

Bash shakes his head but offers no explanation.

"This is only for important parties," she says. "I'm not just going to run around the castle in it."

"You won't be in the castle," he says, gesturing impatiently for her to put the dress on.

Kenna frowns. She hates it when he keeps secrets from her. Her curiosity is too strong. But Bash's lips are sealed tightly, and there's only one way to find out what he's up to. "Are you going to watch me as I dress?"

He lips quirk into a crooked grin. "Well, it's hardly the first time I've seen you naked," he reminds her, and she can't help but to laugh as she strips away her clothes from the night before.

"You're still not going to tell me what we're doing?" she asks, hoping the sight of her bare body will loosen his tongue. "Or at least give me a hint?"

"I'm fulfilling your dream."

Kenna doesn't understand. If anything, she's more confused now than when she'd woken up. With a shrug, she begins to dress, silently cursing her husband for being so stubborn.

…

She expects to find a carriage waiting for them, or at least horses, but there is nothing. Before she can question it, Bash takes her hand and leads her away from the castle, to the edge of the woods. Kenna feels her heart race. She's heard the stories of the pagans who live among the trees, the savages with a thirst for blood. She presses herself closer to Bash, frowning. "I thought the forest was unsafe," she says.

"Not if you're with me," he says, his fingers brushing over the hilt of his sword.

"A picnic in the woods with a chance of being murdered," she notes with a roll of her eyes. "How very romantic of you, Bash."

"You're safe with me," he insists. "Where is your sense of adventure?"

"Must have left it in Scotland," she says. "Didn't have room for it, what with my will to survive and common sense taking up so much space."

He leans in, kissing the top of her head. "Trust me," he whispers.

And it's impossible to tell him no when her body feels like it might melt as his touch. "You know I do," she answers.

…

The clearing that he guides her to is beautiful. Wildflowers bloom everywhere, painting the land in beautiful shades of purples, pinks, and yellows. Kenna's jaw drops at the sight of it, and she wonders how she's never been here before. Surely Catherine would have loved to show off such a beautiful spot, to boast of the gorgeous land that she has.

"I'm not sure that even my father knows of this place," Bash says, as though he can read her thoughts. "I doubt that Francis knows, either. He never dared to wander too far from the castle as a child."

"It's beautiful," Kenna whispers, breathing deeply, enjoying the sweet fragrance of the flowers.

She sets down the basket that he's prepared before sitting, mindful of her dress. "How does this fulfill my dream?" she asks.

"My mother was a pagan," he says. "I'm sure that you know that."

Kenna nods. Of course everyone in the castle has heard whispers of the King's beloved heretic.

"My heart, therefore, lies in two worlds. The world of my father, of duty and expectations. And then, the world of my mother, of the wild and the free," he continues, plucking a grape from its stem and feeding it to her. "I am at home here, sometimes more so than at court."

Kenna nods, though she isn't sure where this is going. He still hasn't answered her question. She waits for him to continue, but he's silent, absently picking flowers.

She decides not to press the matter. He'll come around in his own time. She takes a bite of bread, her stomach growling.

"Out here, I'm not the King's bastard," he says at last. "I can be anything that I want. I could be King of the Wild."

Kenna giggles. "King Sebastian," she says, smiling. "It sounds lovely."

She expects him to laugh, but he's face is stoic. His fingers continue to work quickly, tying together flower stems. "Every king needs a queen," he says quietly. "You wished to be a queen once."

"That was ages ago," she says, though, in truth, it hasn't been too long.

"You are my wife," he says, his hands falling still. "I can't offer you lands or wealth, but I can offer you my love."

"That's more than enough," she whispers.

He lifts his hands, and she realizes he's fashioned the flowers into a circle, a crown. He places it on her head before kissing her. "You are my queen," he whispers. "Queen Kenna of the Wild."

She throws her arms around him, leaning back, pulling him on top of her. "You're going to ruin your dress," he murmurs, trailing his lips along her neck.

She laughs. For once, she does not care if her dress is spotless or not. "The Queen of the Wild doesn't mind a little dirt," she says, tangling her fingers in his hair before capturing his lips in a hungry kiss.


End file.
